


touch

by ballerinaroy



Series: together or not at all [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Touch adverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22696738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballerinaroy/pseuds/ballerinaroy
Summary: They've been friends for eight years but entering into a relationship means there's plenty more to learn about eachother.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/Ron Weasley
Series: together or not at all [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632493
Comments: 8
Kudos: 247





	touch

For several minutes after Hermione stayed there, enjoying the sight of Harry admiring Ron’s passed out form before finally convincing herself to get up and use the loo. The mirror showed her hair was a mess and a bite mark on her neck. She blushed, unable to recall the exact moment that it had happened. Or who had caused it. The notion that it could have been either of her best friends was a little thrilling and she pressed her fingers to it gently to savor the memory.

It was hard to believe that only a week ago they were sitting in the garden, surrounded by friends and family, anxiously waiting for speeches and waiting for happiness. They’d found it despite the nuptials and party that everyone had convinced them they needed.

By the time she emerged Harry had vanished their mess and was tucking a sheet around Ron for what looked like a promising mid-afternoon nap. It was impossible to not stop and stare at the sight of them. Covered only by a lone ruffled sheet, muscular arms and legs and chests all on display.

Harry’s head turned, catching her and she couldn’t help but blush. She padded over their frantically strewn clothing and slid back into bed so Harry was sandwiched between them. He grinned lazily as she pulled the sheet around her but when she reached out to cuddle, her hand on his chest caused him to twist away.

Confused she tried again but the second her skin made contact with his again he moved away from her.

“Harry?” she asked softly.

“Yeah?” he grunted and she reconsidered saying anything at all.

But the hurt, the thing she’d been avoiding addressing was still there. The moment Ron had knocked on Ginny’s door, pulled her down to the kitchen and said the thing that should have been so obvious she had known that they _needed_ Harry. There had never been a Ron and Hermione without him, it seemed only natural that he would join them, stay with them for the rest of their lives.

The piece of Harry and Ron was so obvious just like the piece of she and Ron, but where she and Harry stood seemed a more difficult question. A question she’s not sure how to ask, even now, but she knew she had to start somewhere.

“Do you not want me to touch you?”

There was a breath and then Harry rolled over onto his back, turning his head to her.

“What?”

“When I touch you,” Hermione repeated. “You pull away. Do you not want me to?”

Harry blinked at her.

“Because it’s alright,” she said, tears suddenly in her eyes. “If you don’t want me too, like the way you want Ron.”

Realization dawned in his eyes and he looked embarrassed. “No, Hermione it’s not-“

“Harry, it’s alright if you’re not attracted to me,” she told him, her voice gaining pitch and she rather wished that she’d thought to put something on before climbing into bed. She felt much too vulnerable, lying there without a stitch of clothing between them. “We can all still….we’ll work it out and-“

He silenced her by putting a hand on her face and stroking it gently. “Hermione,” he said softly. “I love you.”

“I know,” she said earnestly, “But you don’t want me like you want him.”

It’d been a week now, tucked away in a small bungalow meant only for two. A week of exploring one another and yet it hadn’t been equal. Harry’d been quick to accept Ron’s mouth on his, for hands and mouths to wander away from platonic places, but with her he’d been…reserved, hesitant.

“I-I do,” Harry said but he sounded conflicted. “I just—

He looked at her as he had so many times for her to provide the answer. But the one she was trying to give him, an out from loving her _like that_ , he kept refusing.

“It’s hard,” he said finally, “To be touched all the time.”

And the answer stunned the tears from her eyes and the lump from her throat.

“I didn’t grow up like you and Ron did. The Dursleys, they did whatever they could to avoid touching me at all. I wasn’t even out of diapers when they started putting me in the cupboard, when I was ill I had to clean up after myself. The first time someone hugged me, I mean really hugged me, was after Cedric died when I woke up and Molly-“ he paused and his eyes were now wet too.

“Aside from those weeks Ginny and I were together, I’ve never been in a situation where I’ve even wanted to touch someone, and this is great, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a lot.”

Guilt flashed through Hermione as she thought through all the times she’d pushed him, knocked their knees together under the table until he didn’t pull away, brushed their hands together until he got the message that she wanted him to take hers. All of the instances where they’d consciously placed him in the middle so he wouldn’t feel left out.

“It’s easier, with Ron,” Harry admitted. “His is the body I know best after my own. With you, I feel like I always need to ask permission-“

“You don’t-“

“And then I worry that I’m asking too often.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, both for interrupting him and for ever making him feel that way.

“Don’t be,” he urged. “I like it when you touch me, I do. It’s just, this is all so new and it’s a lot. Like right now, having you on either side of me. It’s one thing to cuddle with you or Ron but to have both of you reaching for me.”

“Yes, Ron does tend to be rather handsy in his sleep,” Hermione joked and Harry grinned. “We won’t put you there then.”

Harry nodded, looking a little relieved. Over his shoulder she could see that Ron was awake but still, watching their conversation.

“I wished you’d said something,” Hermione whispered to Harry, resisting the urge to stroke his cheek.

“Yes, well, I did just force you to run off on your wedding, I was worried that asking you not to touch me might send mixed signals,” Harry said jokingly.

“It’s not a mixed signal, to tell us how you feel.” She urged. “In case you haven’t noticed we’re actually pretty fond about talking about those things.”

Harry pulled a face and in light of his confession, she worried that they’d been overwhelming him with their words too.

“Has that made you uncomfortable too?” she asked, worried. “Us telling you we love you so often?”

“No,” Harry told her firmly. “I reckon you could say it a few times more.”

He put his hand on her cheek once more, brushing the hair from her face.

“I suppose,” she teased. “But only so long as you say it back.”


End file.
